


Gethard + Teleprompter 4-Eva

by kimstheworst



Category: tcgs, the chris gethard show
Genre: Love, Other, UCB, man vs machine, mnn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-08 02:39:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4287603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimstheworst/pseuds/kimstheworst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basic Cable host Chris Gethard finds love in the most unlikely of places.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gethard + Teleprompter 4-Eva

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by the affection that Chris Gethard has for Teleprompter on "The Chris Gethard Show" and then I wrote this cracked out thing.

It had all started when Chris Gethard got his new show on Fusion, moving from Public Access to basic cable. 

“Wow, a real show!” wondered Gethard aloud on the night of his first taping.

“Yeah, we have everything set up, just like a real tv show. Because we are a real tv show, now!” said Jersey Dave. “We even have a real teleprompter.”

“Well, we had a teleprompter back at MNN, too.” said Chris.

“Not like this.” asserted Jersey Dave.

Jersey Dave fired up the teleprompter for the show, and sure enough, he was right.  This teleprompter was nothing like the old one back at MNN.  For one thing: it actually worked.  And secondly:  it didn’t just tell Chris what to say, it also spoke to him.

At first it was just little things: greetings, encouragements, the odd comment.  But then it grew to have full blown, in depth conversations with the young basic cable host.  Until one day the host admitted “Teleprompter, I feel like you know me better than a lot of my friends. And I feel like I know you, too even though I’ve never actually seen your face.”

Of course, Chris had gotten one thing wrong - he had thought there was a person somewhere behind the scenes feeding words into the machine.  Talking to him through the machine.  He never, for a second supposed that the entity he was speaking to was the machine, itself.   That Tuesday night, after they had ushered out all the dogs that had comprised that night’s audience and the studio had been all cleaned up and shut down, teleprompter weeped 1s and 0s for the love it could never have.

“Prompter, how you doing today?” Chris asked the next shoot day. Prompter responded, but as always, Chris was the only one to see the response.  “Well, I’m sorry that you’re sad do you need a hug?...Okay, well, I’m coming back there and I’m gonna give you a hug and I can’t promise it will make you feel better, but maybe it will help a little bit, and I know that sad is a valid emotion.  You know Inside Out was all about that, but if I can help I want to help.  So, yeah, here comes the hug train.”  

Chris went to the control room and gave a hug to a man named “Dan” who he thought was the one controlling the teleprompter.  It was a little bit awkward, but Dan let it happen, because Chris was his boss and if this was sexual harassment, man, it was the weirdest form of sexual harassment he’d ever encountered.   

“Did that help at all?” Chris asked Prompter, getting back to his hosting chair in the studio.   Prompter lied and answered in the affirmative.

One night at the after party, Chris went up to Dan and tried to strike up a conversation, continuing something he had spoken about earlier to Prompter.  Dan just looked at him with a blank face and after a while it became readily apparent to Chris, that Dan had no idea what he was talking about.

“You do run the teleprompter, right?” asked Chris.

“Oh no, I help run the chroma key.” responded Dan.

“We don’t even use chroma key. We’re not fucking Mystery Science Theater.”

“Oh.” said Dan simply.

“Then who the hell runs the teleprompter?” Chris wondered “Hey!” he yelled over the din of the bar crowd “Who the fuck here runs the teleprompter?!”

Nobody answered.  Chris rushed up to JD Amato.  

“JD, I’m freaking out here, man.  Who the hell runs the Prompter?”

“Chris, what?  Nobody really runs the prompter.  We load the words in at the beginning of the show and it just runs.”

“Don’t you fucking do that man. Don’t you prank me like this it’s not funny.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“It talks back to me.  You don’t just load up the words and go.”

“Is that what you think you’re talking to in the middle of the show?  I thought you were just joking.  We all thought you were just joking.”

“Fuck you, JD.  Don’t you catfish me with a machine.”

“I’m not catfishing you.  Wait, just, hey Shannon!”  JD called across the bar to where the illustrious Shannon O’Neill was yelling “Flick that bean!”  at a young college student named Alyssa.

“Shannon!” JD yelled again.

“What!?” she yelled coming over.

“That thing with Chris and the Teleprompter...” JD said.

“Yeah, it’s a really fun bit where you pretend the Teleprompter is talking to you.” Shannon said slapping Chris on the arm.

“See?” JD said.

“Oh come on.” Chris lamented.

“Bethany!” JD called and asked her about Chris’s “Teleprompter bit” as well.

“Aw yeah.  It’s really cute.  It’s like you have an imaginary friend.” Bethany commented.

Meanwhile, Chris was starting to freak out more and more.

JD called over just about everybody else: Murf, Hallie, Mimi on the Hoops (who even at the bar kept spinning those hoops), Banana Man, Messenger Bag, Emma Noble, Duke Ponzetti, Dru Johnston, Connor Ratliff, even the Human Fish and every single one of them asserted they had never seen anything on the Teleprompter aside from the show’s script.

The walls were closing in. Chris had to get out of there.  He needed air.  He needed to investigate the studio himself.

* * *

Teleprompter was surprised when the studio lights flashed on with a big striking sound.  This was highly irregular.  Usually the lights wouldn’t be on for at least another week.  Teleprompter was even more surprised when the object of its affection, Chris Gethard, wandered in all wild eyed and fired Teleprompter up.

“So, what the hell is this?  Huh?  A prank?  Are JD and, like Emma Noble, gonna pop out and laugh at me any second, for believing their crap?  Huh?” pleaded Chris.

Teleprompter answered: No.  That it wasn’t a prank.

“So, what the fuck are you?....Oh, you’re a teleprompter.  Great.  That’s just fucking illuminating.  Thanks great.  I can’t believe I’m talking to a damn machine. So, like what?  You’re a reincarnated ghost?  Or you’re like Scarjo in HER?...oh, you don’t know. Ok.  Well.  Don’t talk to me anymore ok?  Just leave me alone.  Run the script.  But that’s it. Don’t talk to me, ok? Because this? I don’t need this. My anxiety is already running at a baseline 80% on most days.  Adding ‘talks to machines’ to that.  That’s just.  I don’t need that. I don’t need this.”  Chris said, his head drooping as he left the studio, tears welling in his eyes as he left Teleprompter in the dark.

Days turned to weeks.  The first season of “The Chris Gethard Show” on Fusion ended. Everything went on hiatus.  Teleprompter sat there, unused.  Untalked to.  Not that if the show were in production would it speak anyways.  Chris had made it very clear that he wanted to keep their relationship strictly professional.  And Teleprompter would respect Chris’ wishes.  Would respect the wishes of the human it loved.

Over the hiatus, sometimes Chris would look for someone to talk to, outside of his human friends and his human wife.  He’d try the online community.  But they never understood him the way Teleprompter did.  He found he missed his friend, the teleprompter.  He missed their talks.  Teleprompters carefully worded responses.  Teleprompter’s concern for him and sensitivity and, yes, even Teleprompter’s humor.

The show came off hiatus in the Fall and Chris was excited to get back to work, but even more, he was excited to get back to Teleprompter.

“Teleprompter, how you doing tonight?”  he asked, at the first in studio rehearsal back in the studio, but Teleprompter did not respond, instead just displaying that night’s script.  “Prompter, how was your Summer?” still nothing.  The smile faded from Chris’s face. He proceeded with that night’s show: “Mega Twister” where people played a massive game of Twister while talking about natural disasters, but his heart just wasn’t in it.

That night, Chris went on a walk past all the New York sights one would expect to see in a montage where a character is doing some soul searching: The Brooklyn Bridge, the Statue of Liberty, the High Line,  The NBC Experience Store, The Piano from Big stacked up outside (the now closed) FAO Schwarz and like just a fuck ton of pigeons in a pile. And as he flashed back on all the good times he and Teleprompter had he realized (in front of an erupting fountain...maybe the fountain from Die Hard: With A Vengeance) that he loved Teleprompter.  

He rushed back to the studio for that night’s taping, only to find JD Amato and Jersey Dave packing up Teleprompter.

“What are you doing?!” yelled Chris.

“We’re packing up this dumb ole teleprompter, because it’s not working anymore.” said Jersey Dave.

“Whaaaaaa” said Chris in disbelief “Nonononono. Don’t do that.” pleaded Chris.

“Chris, it’s fine we already got another one over there, just in time for tonight’s show.  It’s fine.” asserted JD Amato.

“No,  you don’t understand, JD.  I love this teleprompter.” said Chris.

“Uh, what?” said JD.

“It’s true.  It’s true, everybody!” Chris yelled to the entire crew and audience. “I am in love with the Teleprompter.  Do you hear that Teleprompter? I love you.”  

Teleprompter turned on just flashing an underscore like a computer awaiting a command prompt.

“Whaaaat?” Jersey Dave said holding up the cord for the teleprompter.  “How the hell?  It’s not even plugged into anything.”

“It’s the power of love, Jersey Dave. You wouldn’t understand. I love Teleprompter and Teleprompter loves me.” Chris said “Teleprompter, I’m so sorry I pushed you away.  You didn’t deserve that.  I guess I just wasn’t ready to love a sentient machine I guess. But I realized.  We all love different things in this world.  We can’t help it.  I once saw a “My Strange Addiction” where a guy loved a car.  Like really loved a car and like it wasn’t a Ferrari, it was just like a Toyota Celica. But it was special to him and that’s the point.  I look at you, Teleprompter and I feel like I really see you and I feel like you really see me.  And if that’s not something, then I don’t know what is.  And although you are an electronic sign only I can see and understand (maybe you're cousins with the road sign from LA Story) I am willing to commit polygamy against my beautiful mermaid of a wife, Hallie, of The LLC, and ask you to marry me."

Teleprompter considered, Chris’ words and responded.

“But Teleprompter, what is sudden in this crazy world of ours?” Chris replied.

Chris waited for Teleprompter’s response.

It came in the form of The Smith’s “There is a Light That Never Goes Out” blasting from everywhere and nowhere at the same time and the word “YES” emblazoned in big bold letters across Teleprompter’s screen.  

But this time everyone could see what Teleprompter was saying and they all covered their ears to block the loud melancholy tune Teleprompter played in response to Chris’ question.

The spell was broken and everyone could see and hear Teleprompter, now.  

Chris, Teleprompter and Hallie of the LLC lived happily ever after in a 3-way marriage.


End file.
